Broken Hearts

‘Why do we do such terrible things to each other?’ said the softly spoken man at the library, who somehow knew I’d be the one person in the room who would listen.

‘I don’t know,’ I said, looking directly into his eyes. Because what was I to say? He’d just told me he’d raised his son into adulthood, knowing the boy was not his biological son. Knowing his wife had betrayed him while he was away. Knowing he’d live with the consequences and questions for the rest of his life.

Why do we do such terrible things to each other?

To teach us the power of love, is the only answer I could come up with. To teach us resilience and surrender.

To teach us the only way to healing is forgiveness. And the only way to forgive others is to forgive ourselves for the parts of us that we do not wish to see.

Terrible things, broken hearts are. My heart aches still from the sorrow of times gone by. Deep, deep love: known, and lost. Beautiful dreams, stolen by life.

Once, I looked straight towards the silver lining of the clouds that surrounded me.

Now, I sit in sorrow with the world, knowing the sun will rise again.

Knowing also that the night is part of the all.